


take a chance

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 4 Things, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Kissing, M/M, Realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 22:03:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11240154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Four times Yuuri kissed someone.





	take a chance

i.  
Yuuri's first kiss happens when he's fourteen and in his first year of high school. Yuuko is two years older than him, and she's a junior, but he feels like he needs to know how it feels what all his classmates are talking about.

They talk about girls and bands of mostly girls, they talk about porn and tits and he just feels so weird. They talk about their posters of the girls in the bands and he just stares at his posters of Viktor, the small collection he started the year before.

He doesn't think too much of it. He tells himself he's a late bloomer and that he'll get a crush on a girl sooner than later. Yuuko is cute, he repeats in his head as he stares too intently at her lips. He doesn't feel anything— he doesn't feel the butterflies so many of the other boys describe.

He drums his fingers against the table in the living room. Yuuko is sitting next to him, talking about something he doesn't quite catch. He feels anxiety beneath his skin, but he just wants to share something with the boys of his grade. No one else likes skating, no one else likes ballet, no one else devotes their life to Viktor.

He feels alone, and maybe, just maybe, knowing how a girl's lips feel, how being in love feels, will make him feel closer to other boys his age. But he doesn't like Yuuko like that— he feels warmth pool in the pit of his stomach when he looks at Viktor, not her.

"Yuuko?" he says, and she looks back at him. Her mouth is opened the slightest bit, and he breathes deeply before cutting the distance between them. He feels how their lips meet, he feels the wetness of her mouth, the way their noses bump the slightest bit.

But he doesn't feel new or as if he likes the way it feels. He pulls away, and his sixteen-year-old friend looks at him, perplexed. "Yuuri...?" she mutters.

"I'm sorry," he says, choking back a sob and refusing to look at her. "I just— I thought—" he bites his bottom lip and brushes his foot against the carpet. It's fuzzy and he likes the way it feels. She probably hates him now, she's probably going to yell at him, she's—

"What did you think, Yuuri? I'm not upset."

Yuuri clings to his anxiety, his fear for a few seconds more before giving her a side glance. "Everyone was talking about girls and their first kiss with one and I—" he puts his hands on his face and exhales. "I just wanted to feel like I was like them."

He puts his hands away slowly when he doesn't hear Yuuko laugh or say anything, and he looks at her. She's smiling weakly. "Yuuri, it's okay. Don't you think you could... like boys?"

Yuuri's ears definitely hear those words, but he feels like his brain takes years deciphering them, giving them meaning. When it does, he feels his heart start thumping against his chest, and his mouth is suddenly very dry.

"I... I can?"

Yuuko is the one to start sobbing this time, enveloping him into a hug. Yuuko is warm as she hugs him. "Yes, you can like boys, Yuuri."

Yuuri smiles, though the feeling of bewilderment doesn't leave him. His thoughts of Viktor's lips and his hair and his eyes suddenly make sense, and the way girls are just friends, the way what other boys describe happens with them with girls only happens to him with Viktor.

He feels like Yuuko's lips are still against his own when they separate, though it just feels wet and warm.

When he looks at his posters of Viktor as he goes to his room, he feels like he's in control now. He doesn't have to wonder anymore.

He sleeps peacefully for the first time in a while.

* * *

ii.  
The first time Yuuri kisses a boy he's in his first Junior Grand Prix Final. He's fifteen and he's planning to move to Seniors next season— the fact that he got there on his last season as a junior is a bit pathetic, but he doesn't really care.

Viktor is there in the Final too, but in Seniors. He won bronze, and Yuuri is proud of his long lasting celebrity crush. He stretches as he goes to the bathroom next to the banquet place, his coach waiting for him outside it. He doesn't have a medal, fifth place feels bitter but not awful.

"Yuuri," a guy his age says, and he turns around, his half-washed hands out of the sink. His pronunciation of Yuuri's name is sketchy and he sees his short black hair and his dark brown eyes.

"D-Damián?" he mutters. He's the kid who got silver, a Spanish fifteen-year-old who he's heard is still going to be a season more in Juniors.

"The very same," he says, his voice strained and his accent so obvious Yuuri feels his knees wobble. His voice is a little sultry, and the way he bats his eyelashes is a little too much.

Yuuri licks his lips. "Your performance was amazing," he says.

"Yours could be improved, but for your level it was really good," he praises as he gets closer to Yuuri, and he feels his throat go dry. His lips are glossy and his tan skin looks warm.

Then, Damián's hand is on Yuuri's, and he straightens up without thinking twice while looking up to the taller boy. "You look so pretty."

Yuuri gulps. Damián stares at him in silence. His heart is beating wildly, as if it wants to go and leave his chest. "You're— you're very handsome," he chokes out, his eyes still open wide. Damián's hand feels warm against his and before he knows it they're against the wall, and it feels cold.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks, his voice merely a whisper.

Yuuri wants to know how it feels to kiss a boy, and the way Damián's eyelashes flutter— he swallows before nodding.

Damián joins his lips with Yuuri's own and he melts into the kiss, his hand on Yuuri's back and pulling him closer. Yuuri doesn't know how to respond for what feels like years before he moves his neck and kisses fervently, and it's all warm and fuzzy and he feels like there's thousands of knots on his stomach.

Damián's hands roam around Yuuri's clothed back, and then he pushes him close to him, their height difference obvious by how Yuuri barely reaches his nose. Their lips separate, and Yuuri breathes in and out. "Did you like that?" Damián asks.

Yuuri's thoughts are a mess, because he finds Damián attractive but he doesn't know him, or knows how his personality is like— he knows nothing about him and he just _kissed_ him. It wasn't simply wet and warm like it was with Yuuko, he felt things.

"Yes, yes I did," he nods, his voice heavy as he melts into Damián's embrace. The Spanish skater ruffles his hair and then kisses his forehead and Yuuri feels warm inside out.

"Do you have a phone or something?" is Damián's next question, and Yuuri almost jumps. A promise of communication after all this. It makes his belly churn with excitement.

"Oh, yeah," he says as he pulls away, taking his phone from his pocket. He dictates his phone to the Spanish skater and he's quick to save him in his contacts.

Yuuri hears his coach yell that he's taking way too long in the rest room and he looks at Damián. He smiles, and Yuuri kisses him for a few seconds.

"See you at Worlds," Damián tells him when they pull away.

Yuuri smiles, his heart feeling like it's going to burst. He nods and he soon is bombarded with questions by his coach. "You seem really happy," she tells him.

"Because I am," he says. His defeat isn't terrible— at least he isn't in sixth place. He still has a lot to work on, but he knows he can get to Worlds.

 _And see Damián in other competition_ , he adds mentally.

The banquet is full of awkward stares between him and Damián, and he knows they both don't feel like making out in the middle of a serious event post-Final.

* * *

iii.  
The first time Yuuri kisses Phichit he's twenty-one and Phichit is nineteen, and they're in the middle of a cold winter night in Detroit.

Yuuri has noticed the way Phichit stares at him, and he's seen him look at his ass more than once. Phichit talks adoringly about many men in bands and older skaters, but he knows he's also attracted to him in one way or another.

"Do you wanna cuddle?" Yuuri asks, and Phichit almost jumps in his bed, surprised. "For warmth, you know."

Phichit's eyes widen as he nods, a smile on his lips as he snuggles next to his friend. Yuuri turns around and he sees his rich brown skin, the strands of hair on his forehead. His eyes. Before he knows it his hands are on Phichit's elbows, and they keep getting lower.

"What are you doing?" Phichit wakes him up from his thoughtfulness, amusement in his voice. Yuuri blushes furiously before trying to explain. "No, it's alright." He laughs heartily and Yuuri's face goes beet red when Phichit nuzzles his neck and puts his arm around his back.

"I— Phichit," he says. He was trying to pkay the seductive type, to be a player as English speakers say, but he doesn't know how to.

"Yes?" he looks up to him and Yuuri looks at his thick eyebrows instead of his eyes.

"Nothing." His eyes drift away from Phichit, and he stares at the sheets before he feels Phichit's hand on his cheek. His eyes widen as Phichit moves and his leg is between both of his, him on top of him. "Phichit."

"I know," Phichit replies, and it's all so ambigous he feels his heartbeat speed up. "Let me kiss you."

Yuuri breathes hard, and he nods. He moves his face to the side and their lips meet, and he feels blood rush to his face as Phichit's tongue is on his mouth.

He groans out as Phichit's knee brushes against his crotch, and the Thai boy is holding his face with his hands on his cheeks. When the pull away there's saliva uniting their lips and Phichit's eyes are glinting.

"Your lips are so soft," the Thai boy tells him. Yuuri elbows him playfully, and Phichit's hand wanders down to his neck. He touches and trails his fingers to his collar.

"Yours are— they're good," he nods, not knowing what to say. Then he notices Phichit's lips against his neck, and he feels himself dissolve against his roommate's touch.

* * *

iv.  
"Victor! I did great, right?"

Yuuri throws himself into Viktor's arms, and he sees how he smiles almost smugly— teenager Viktor comes to mind. And then, his whole world spins off its axis.

Viktor closes his eyes as he pulls him closer, and his eyes open wide as his idol's lips press against his. The first thing he notices is how wet, how feathery soft they are. The second thing he notices is how he feels like all his daydreaming has become true without him even asking for it.

He feels like it lasts hours, and he hears the commentators, though their voices are drowned by how static fills his brain. They fall into the ice and Viktor looks down to him. Yuuri smiles, feeling how he just wants to kiss him again.

 _He likes you back_ , he tells himself. _You were right— he likes you back_. Viktor's clues weren't subtle at all, and he knew there was a plea in them, how he flirted and flirted. He wanted to believe it was him toying with him, because the mere thought of his idol loving him made him nauseous.

"This was the only thing I could think of to surprise you more than you've surprised me," Viktor says.

Yuuri feels warm and he almost forgets he just got out of the ice, that he just attempted a quadruple flip until the static is gone and he hears the people talk about how brave he is, how his stamina is gigantic.

He kisses Viktor before they get to the kiss and cry, and his heart skips a beat. He can talk about it later with him, but he knows, he knows— he wants to be with him, he wants to date him.

God, the mere idea of being what he's daydreamt of for years and years make him feel like he's on fire.


End file.
